The Stranger

The doorbell rang. No movement from the boys. There never was. They had been trained somehow to never answer the house phone (it wasn’t for them, after all) and to never answer the doorbell (it was usually a delivery guy). As soon as Adam paid and closed the door, the boys clumped down the stairs like runaway Clydesdales. The house shook but held its ground.

“Paper plates okay?” Thomas asked.

Thomas and Ryan would eat on paper plates exclusively because it meant easier cleanup, but tonight, with the parents away, it was pretty much a given that if he forced real plates on them, they’d be in the sink when he and Cori

The cycles of domesticity.

“Paper plates are fine,” Adam said.

The two boys attacked the pizza as if they were rehearsing the finale of The Day of the Locust. Between bites, Ryan looked at his father curiously.

“What?” Adam said.

Ryan managed to swallow. “I thought you were just going to Janice’s for di

“We are.”

“So what’s with the getup?”

“It isn’t a getup.”

“And what’s the smell?” Thomas added.

“Are you wearing cologne?”

“Eeew. It’s ruining the taste of the pizza.”

“Knock it off,” Adam said.

“Want to trade a slice of pepperoni for a slice of buffalo chicken?”

“No.”

“Come on, just one slice.”

“Throw in a mozzarella stick.”

“No way. Half a mozzarella stick.”

Adam started for the door as the negotiations wore down. “We won’t be late. Get your homework done, and please stick the pizza box in the recycling, okay?”

He drove past the new hot yoga place on Franklin Avenue—by hot he meant temperature of the class, not popularity or looks—and found parking across the street from Janice’s. Five minutes early. He looked for Cori

David, Janice’s son and quasi maître d’, greeted him at the door and brought him to the back table. No Cori

“Where’s your wine?” Janice asked. Her bistro was BYO. Adam and Cori

“Forgot.”

“Maybe Cori

“I doubt it.”

“I can send David to Carlo Russo’s.”

Carlo Russo’s was the wine store down the street.

“That’s okay.”

“It’s no hassle. It’s quiet right now. David?” Janice turned back to Adam. “What are you having tonight?”

“Probably the veal Milanese.”

“David, get Adam and Cori

David brought back the wine. Cori

Adam stared at his phone, willing it to buzz. At 7:45 P.M., it did.

It was a text from Cori

MAYBE WE NEED SOME TIME APART. YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS. DON’T TRY TO CONTACT ME. IT WILL BE OKAY.

Then:

JUST GIVE ME A FEW DAYS. PLEASE.

Chapter 13

Adam sent several desperate texts to try to get Cori

But there was no reaction.

Was Cori

He gave Janice some lame excuse about Cori

As he pulled onto his street, he still held out hope that Cori

“She has some work thing,” Adam said in a voice equally vague and dismissive.

“I need my home uniform.”

“So?”

“So I threw it in the wash. Do you know if Mom did the laundry?”

“No,” Adam said. “Why don’t you check the basket?”

“I did.”

“How about your drawers?”

“I checked there too.”

You always see your or your spouse’s flaws in your child. Ryan had Cori

Of course, to be fair, this was no small matter to Ryan.

“Then maybe it’s in the washer or dryer,” Adam said.

“Already looked.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you, kid.”

“When will Mom be home?”

“I don’t know.”

“Like at ten?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ is confusing you exactly?”

There was more snap in his tone than expected. Ryan was also, like his mother, supersensitive.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’ll text Mom.”

“That’s a good idea. Oh, let me know what she says, okay?”

Ryan nodded and texted.

Cori

Adam was, of course, blocking to some extent. Was Cori

The last part felt foolish. The police would hear about their big fight, see Cori

Sleep came in small chunks. Adam constantly checked his phone for texts from Cori

But her boys?

Would Cori

. . . YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS. DON’T TRY TO CONTACT ME. . . .

What was that all about? Why shouldn’t he try to contact her? And what about . . . ?

He sat up as the sun came through the windows. Hello.

Cori

But what about her students?

She took her teaching responsibilities, like most things that mattered, very seriously. She was also a bit of a control freak and hated the idea of some ill-prepared substitute taking over her class for even a day. Fu